The End Of Chloe Bourgeios
by The Author Has Quit Writing
Summary: Chloe dies, after having made one too many akumas angry. The class don't know how to process it. Can you grieve, for someone who treated everyone like garbage? Set before Queen's Battle.


The atmosphere at College Francois-Dupont was heavy that morning. Rainclouds were forming above the school, and teachers were going about their duties like automatons, dead-eyed and cold, instead of being their usual selves.

Even Miss Bustier was dead-eyed and cold as she made her way into the classroom, closing the door behind her discreetly. She'd donned a black blouse, instead of her usual lab coat and turquoise undershirt. Sabrina was sobbing quietly on an empty bench, and nobody had dared to ask why, but some already knew. Adrien, Marinette, Nino, and Alya sat with somber expressions, not able to say a word.

"Everyone, I'm afraid I have a sad announcement to make," Miss Bustier began, "A member of our class, Chloe Bourgeois...She passed away last night."

Marinette shook her head. She'd seen it happen herself; Chloe had, once again, become the target of the akuma of the day, but this time, she hadn't been around to save her. No one had. The akumatised person had summoned an army of living teddy bears, and each of those bears went off wreaking havoc of their own accord. She'd arrived on the scene, but by the time she'd got there, it was too late. One of the bears had dropped Chloe from a tall building, and she was nothing more than a stain on the pavement.

The class was silent, save for Sabrina, who was sobbing quietly in her seat. Nobody had anything to say, not even Adrien, not even the one person in the class she hadn't treated like garbage. There was nothing appropriate they could say, anyway, it was tempting to want to celebrate, for some, to go around the classroom singing, "Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!", and rejoice over never being bullied or humiliated or looked down on again. It was tempting to gloat, too, to go on about how she'd finally gotten her comeuppance for being so horrible, even if that comeuppance was extreme. But then everyone thought about how they didn't want to stoop to Chloe's level. About how there were only two, three at a push, people who would truly miss her. About how lost Sabrina was going to be, now that she was a slave without her master.

Nothing but silence, for around a minute. And then Rose eventually said, "That's too bad."

She was met with nods from everyone else.

"Yeah," Adrien added, "It is."

Miss Bustier cleared her throat. "Mayor Bourgeois will be holding her funeral on Saturday, at eleven, if any of you would like to attend," she continued, "I'm sure that he would appreciate your support. This is, after all, a...Difficult time for him."

Adrien gulped. Mayor Bourgeois was probably in pieces. His Chloe, his precious, and only daughter had been killed in plain sight, and he'd been powerless to stop it, even as the most powerful man in Paris. He was completely alone now. No little girl to spoil. No birthday presents to buy. He'd never see her graduate. She'd never get married. She'd never be any of the things she wanted to be. He was going to have to bury his only daughter, and nobody, not even his wife, was going to be there for him.

"We'll have a little memorial service, later today as well," she added, sighing, "We'll plant a tree, and a put a plaque with a her name on it up for her, in the school allotments. If you'd like to go, please meet me at the entrance after school."

The class nodded once more, in cold, robotic unison. Nobody dared ask who was going, but the guest list was bound to be short.

When class ended for the day, most of the students left. Only Adrien and Sabrina went to wait for Miss Bustier to take them to the memorial.

"Aren't you gonna go?" Alya asked, as Marinette went to leave, "Chloe was Adrien's friend. He'd love it if you showed up, even if just to give him support."

Marinette shook her head. "No. It isn't right for me to go."

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't have anything to say," she answered, "I can't go on about how we had great times together, because we didn't. I can't say how she was a good person, or anything, because she wasn't."

Alya's face fell. "But what about Adrien?"

"I'd only make myself look like a heartless jerk in front of him," she sighed, "Chloe was his only friend before he came here, and I, and everyone else hated her so much. We all thought she was nothing but a nasty brat. I can't say that at her memorial."

Alya opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Marinette was right. Chloe was a nasty brat, and dead or not, she didn't deserve any kind speeches or words. She didn't deserve to be honoured by Marinette, especially not when she'd bullied her for years. Even if she was Adrien's friend, there was no denying that her actions in life had been nothing short of despicable.

"You're right," she eventually said, "I...I'll see you tomorrow."

Marinette nodded, leaving without a word.

The funeral had been an extravagant one, but it was terribly lonely. Only Chloe's parents, Sabrina, and Adrien had seen Chloe be sent off in a mahogany casket, with rose gold handles. There'd been candles, and a choir, and Chloe had been buried with offerings of designer jewellery and perfume. At the wake, there'd been XY, and Jagged Stone, hired to play her favourite tracks. But there were no eulogies. No tears, except from her father. No fond memories of how good she was in life. When everyone left, they barely even had anything to write in the condolence book*. Just a short goodbye, a 'sorry for your loss', then that was it.

Nino was waiting for Adrien, as he left the church. The boy's hair was grimly parted, and he'd been forced into a suit and tie. His face lacked the telltale signs that he'd been crying, but he was downcast nonetheless.

"You ok?" Nino asked.

"Fine," he replied, "It was...It was so weird. She was my only friend before you, and I..."

Somehow, he didn't feel right about saying, "You what?"

"I didn't have anything to say," he responded, "In the end, all I could talk about was what it was like when we were little. Back when she was just my friend, and not the bully everyone knows her as."

Nino nodded solemnly. "Guess you thought, maybe, she'd grow up a bit?" he asked, "Not now, but in future. Maybe she'd be better someday, and you could go back to how it was when you were little."

"Kinda," he admitted, "Y'know, I never thought Chloe was totally hopeless. I thought that maybe, if I just stuck around long enough, or if...I dunno, actually. Maybe someone, or something could've inspired her to be better."

Adrien glanced up at the sky, swallowing. "But it's too late, and now she's gone forever."

Nino's face fell. "Jeez, dude. Wish I knew something to make you feel better," he sighed.

The boy walked with heavy footsteps. "Can I come over yours for a bit?" he asked, "Father's gonna be too busy to care. He always is, and I just wanna talk it out for a bit. With someone who cares."

Nino nodded affirmatively. "Sure," he replied, "Talk as much as you want."

Adrien sighed, before letting everything pour out to Nino. It was a terribly difficult situation, and Chloe's death was a lonely one, at best. But now it was all over, he just felt even weirder. What was there to do? Grieve? Feel guilty over not saving her? Mourn for the fact she'd never grow up, never learn her lesson, and never change? Somehow, none of the three felt quite right.

Still, he rambled on to Nino, pouring everything out. He'd figure it out. Wouldn't he?

* It's a custom in French funerals, for the family of the deceased to leave a book out for the attendees to write their condolences


End file.
